


Let Me Take Care Of You

by DontMindMeDear (JustANerd)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hand Jobs, I love how that is an actual tag, Iwaizumi Hajime is a Good Boyfriend, Living Together, M/M, Office Worker Akaashi, Okay i lied theres plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Stressed out Akaashi, but its only minimal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 22:52:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13258287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustANerd/pseuds/DontMindMeDear
Summary: Akaashi is always controlled, always in charge. He always knows what to do, how to do it and when to do it. No mistakes. And if, then he knows exactly how to solve them. In other words, Akaashi Keiji is a perfectionist.But in return there's one thing he has trouble doing. And that is trusting others with the completion of things without having a last look at it himself. Which, at times, gives him more trouble than the task is worth it, honestly.Iwaizumi Hajime, full-time boyfriend, knows Keiji's faults and helps him to let go, to let himself be taken care of and be spoiled, to not be perfect and not be in control.Because as proud as Keiji is to be a perfectionist, giving up control and letting Hajime decide for him is the best form of relaxation.





	Let Me Take Care Of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkySparks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkySparks/gifts).



> MERRY SINMAS SPARKS!! (I know I'm late, forgive me) I HOPE YOU FIND ENJOYMENT IN THIS!!
> 
> And everyone else: 
> 
> Please have fun~!!

Akaashi Keiji was busy. 

Now, that in itself wasn’t anything special. Considering it was the final sprint before Christmas, aka the most stressful time of the year, that was to be expected, even. The curious thing was, though, that his full hands had barely any relation to the holiday itself. It was the 23rd of December and Keiji was buried neck-deep by records of financial accounting. Cost-Performance-ratio, cash-based accounting, tables of their average return methods and economic comparison calculation, overviews on their investments divided by cash payment, new initiated, on-going and finished payments of installments, liabilities and profit distribution of each filial based on yearly, monthly and even weekly results, as well as a myriad of other categories. 

In short, Keiji was drowning in numbers. 

Yet, he did nothing to escape to less suffocating grounds. By his own volition.

With the door tightly shut, the only noises permeating the silence were the loud ticking of his antique wall clock, the shuffling of papers and the sounds of Keiji’s own body sustaining him with air and blood. Soft reminders that he was no machine, but only a single, ordinary human. Unfortunately. If he were a machine working via computer chip, then his work would be finished much faster. Actually, one of the computers at work alone would be more than enough to cut his working load by hours, but since it was Christmas, the bureau was closed. Due to safety reasons, and in order to heighten the level of protection regarding the company’s secrets, the employees weren’t allowed to take a notebook or even a usb home and it wasn’t possible for Keiji to enter the company’s home network from his personal computer, either. Therefore, Keiji’s only option was to use the printed version of the data he was given, which he had only been allowed to take with him because his security level indicated he was entitled to do so. And even then had it been necessary to let one of the intern security guards look over it to make sure Keiji really only took those documents with him he was allowed to. It was only one of the company’s many old-fashioned, traditional standard procedures that might very well be the only available mean to safe Keiji’s reputation and position.

Caught in the midst of his attention-demanding task, jarring iron joints and a couple of brief, quick knocks against his study’s dark wooden door creeped its way into Keiji’s occupied mind. 

“Keiji, dinner’s ready. You coming?” 

His first instinct was to ignore the presence standing at the now open door. But as dutiful and stressed as Keiji was, ignoring Hajime was a task of sheer impossibility. Even more so, when his expectant, pervasive gaze was resting heavily, palpable even, on Keiji’s hunched shoulders, reminding him once more that Keiji was indeed not a robot but very much human. After all, there was no way a robot was capable of feeling what Keiji felt when Hajime was with him. Even if Keiji sometimes wished those emotions welling within him were a bit less, well,  _ salient _ . 

“Just a second, I’m almost finished. Just a few more pages.” 

‘A few more pages’ he might have said, but in reality there were more than ‘just a few pages’ left. Quite a  _ few  _ more, actually. If he admitted that, though, then Hajime would never leave him alone, urging him to take a break. 

He’d say it’s only a short pause. Five minutes only. Maximal ten. Then he would place some form of food before him, reasoning that, if he takes a break anyway, then he might just as well eat something while he’s on it. Once Keiji started to eat, his stomach would demand what Keiji had refused it before, too caught up in work to feel any sort of hunger. And Hajime, knowing him well enough to be certain that was bound to happen, would be more than happy to oblige Keiji’s physical needs and place more dishes before him, without Keiji having to voice it. Once Keiji was fed and started to lean back, a slight pain in his stomach from the sudden intake of too much food, telling himself he would only rest one more minute before going back to work, Hajime would sit down next to him, their thighs brushing, and stare at him with those beautiful forest green eyes as he sweet talked him into taking a quick nap. Just ten more minutes, maybe fifteen. Hajime would even promise him to set an alarm and wake him up if Keji had troubles waking up on his own. Of course that, too, was bound not to happen, as Keiji, once he fell asleep, slept like a rock. Even if Hajime kept his promise and seriously tried to wake him up, his attempts would either fail or Keiji would be too bleary to continue his work. 

Keiji knew Hajime was only worried about him, yet he couldn’t help but think how much easier it was to concentrate on his work, how much faster he’d would wrap things up, without Hajime distracting him. Maybe he was lucky and it was one of those days where Hajime would let him off easy. 

“Can’t you do that later? It will go much faster when you give your brain some rest and with some ressources to draw energy from.” 

Keiji’s brow twitched. Apparently, Hajime wasn’t willed to buy his lie tonight. Maybe Hajime was also affected by the prevalent Christmas feelings? Whether or not that was the case, some part of Keiji’s mind agreed with Hajime’s sentiments. His stomach was empty and his head was swirling with numbers. A break with Hajime and his delicious cooking seemed like an excellent idea. Unfortunately for his stomach and Hajime’s poor nerves, Keiji wasn’t just stressed and short on time, but also as stubborn as a mule and he refused to reward himself with a break when he still had a heap of work to do. 

He hadn’t planned to spend the night before Christmas Eve, their first Christmas together in their first shared apartment, buried in administrative accounting papers and final invoices, either. But if his co-workers were so incompetent to let the promise of Christmas holidays influence their concentration, what other choice did he have? The truth was, it wasn’t his job to check the numbers and correct them, but Keiji was unable to reach the person in charge and these documents were needed for some important end-of-the-year meetings with their business partners between the holidays. Keiji couldn’t possibly risk to harm their company’s good reputation or his own, as he was the one who would have to explain the done mistakes to the attending representatives, could he? The sooner he finished, the sooner he would be curled up next to Hajime on their bed with some steaming hot tea and some snacks. 

“I’m fine. Just a bit longer.” 

A sigh from the doorway. Akaashi didn’t let it distract him, didn’t allow it to district it, and kept his gaze on the data tables spread out before him. 

“Keiji. They’re your co-workers. If they managed to keep up with your work so far, then I’m sure their work couldn’t have been that awful.”

Keiji considered his own self-control anything but lousy. He always knew when it was best for him to keep still and indulge or when it was fine to be blunt and say whatever was on his mind. He was also familiar with Hajime’s personality. As such, he knew well that right now was one of those moments where persistently staying quiet was the best option for him to have his way. Let Hajime say what he wanted, meet it with a wall of stubborn silence and earlier or later he would be left alone as Hajime had to admit his attempts went nowhere. 

Yet, despite knowing this all too well, hearing Hajime vocally take his co-workers side, when it was their pitiful performance that drove him into the current mess in the first place, was too much for him to take. Ignoring the small voice telling him Hajime did it on purpose, intending for him to blow up and lose his focus, Keiji turned a burning glare at the man with the bright pink ‘kiss the cook’ apron tied around his waist; a stupid present from their friends when they had first moved in that they both grew ridiculously fond of. 

“If it wasn’t as awful as it is - and I know it’s awful, I checked everything beforehand, _twice_ \-  I wouldn’t be sitting here right now and scurry my way through this clutter of figures and numbers and spelling errors! Do you think I want to spend my free time like _this_ , correcting mistakes any Intern would have had the ability to avoid a million times better than these failures of _co-workers_ did, instead of being with you and one of your hot, self-cooked meals and some wine or tea or whatever else we got at home? This whole data set is a _mess!_ ’S _unusable_! I’m not doing this, because it’s _fun_ , Hajime!” 

Silence followed his words, only broken by the soft rasps of his pants. He hadn’t meant to get so worked up, didn’t mean to take out his frustrations on Hajime of all people. It wasn’t Hajime’s fault, he had only meant well. It wasn’t fair of Keiji to raise his voice against him as if it was.

Correcting the reading glasses that had slipped down his nose with his pointer and middle finger, Akaashi turned back to his papers, avoiding Hajime’s sharpened gaze. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled lowly. “Just … leave me alone for a while. I’ll join you once I’m done.”

Hajime didn’t say anything in return, but Keiji heard him sigh, followed by the pitter-patter of bare feet on wood. It wasn’t uncommon for Hajime to be barefoot in their rooms. He wasn’t a big fan of being confined by tight clothes, has never been. Even his everyday clothes, ranking from sweaters, to jeans, or even underwear, Hajime always bought things a size bigger than necessary. What he couldn’t buy larger, for example dress shirts as that would make him seem unprofessional, was discarded as soon as he walked through their entrance door.

Yet, there was something about the slapping from skin on wood that didn’t seem to suit the situation. Keiji’s eyes skimmed over tables, rates and text, but his mind seemed incapable of processing anything he saw, as his sole focus caught by the oddity behind him. Torn between his intention of ignoring it to concentrate on his work and his inner curiosity to find out what was going on, he failed to pay proper attention to any of the two. 

Consequently, by the time Keiji realised what was going on, it was already too late. Warmth enveloped him from behind, soft tufts of hair tickled his cheek and a pair of toned hands were propped on his desk right next to his own. Keiji’s breath hitched. He was caged. Like a deer caught in the headlight, Keiji stared wide-eyed at his documents.

“Keiji.” 

Shivers ran along his spin. Keiji pressed his eyes shut. He knew that tone of voice. Why did he have to use it  _ now  _ of all times? That wasn’t  _ fair _ .

“It’s only a quick break, nothing more. I’m not asking you to go on a week-long vacation to Hawaii with me. It’s not good for your health when you do nothing but stare at black ink on white paper all day long.” Hot breath and soft lips brushed his ear as Hajime spoke, causing goosebumps to rise along Keiji’s arms. 

Turning away from the tempting touch, Keiji reached for a binder he roughly remembered having organized before. Although, he couldn’t recall what their contents were. He tried to figure it out as he flipped through the papers, but none of the writings made any sense. It was hard to grasp a clear thought when warm lips were pressed against his pulse, insistent fingers pulled at his shirt and every breath was accompanied by the smells of freshly cooked rice, kareshi mustard sauce and the faint, underlying scent of Hajime’s deodorant. The image of Hajime leaving the shower after his daily workout session flashed through his mind, but it was gone before he could get a hold on it, overlapped by images of boiled rapeseed plants with kareshi mustard sauce and rice, side dishes of cooked sweet potatoes, mushrooms, eggrolls and several others. His stomach churned. Keiji swallowed thickly.

He shook his head and tilted it away from the man behind him to help clear his thoughts. “Hajime, no, I still have to take a look at this! It’s a very important document for a meeting on Wed-” Keiji’s words stopped in his throat as a wet tongue licked a broad line across his newly exposed neck to his ear. “Haji-” Keiji gasped. His earlobe was sucked between warm lips only for Hajime to bite down on it. 

Releasing him from the caress of his mouth, Hajime’s breath fanned hotly over the wet stripe of skin. Keiji trembled again. “Come on, baby boy. Let  _ Daddy _ take care of you,” Hajime whispered into his ear, his voice rough and illegally seductive. 

Keiji bit his lip. He didn’t want to give in. Even if his groin had a different opinion on the matter. He still had work to do. But the breath on his neck and the hands stroking over his stomach, seemingly touching him everywhere at once, melted his iron resolution with practised ease. Especially, when Hajime was caressing him right along his beltline, fingers dipping playfully under the fabrics of his sweat pants, yet too shy to go any lower. Instinctively, Keiji arched his back to press himself against Hajime’s broad chest. When had his hands even slipped under his shirt? Keiji didn’t know. It seemed he knew nothing anymore. What was he even doing? Wasn’t there something important he had to finish? Then how come he was about to do something completely different? And why didn’t he seem to dislike this turn of events?

“Haji-”

“Shush, baby. It’s okay. Daddy knows what he’s doing.” 

_ Daddy _ . A word as spellbound as a curse. Or a charm. Whichever was the case at times. But its effect was nonetheless ever-prevalent, ever the same. Thinking became fuzzy and difficult, thoughts broken to bits and pieces without correlation. He felt too hot, his body burning under the teasing touch and it got harder and harder to see more than blurry black-white lines. 

Keiji was supposed to work. But how could he do that when nothing seemed to make sense anymore? At his job, he was known as a person of great intelligence and high-speed thinking. If that brain of his malfunctioned and stopped working, then of what use was he?

Keiji was scared. He didn’t want to think anymore. Not about his current task, not about his job, not about time management, and especially not about pushing Hajime away for even more work. Keiji simply didn’t want to think at all anymore. He didn’t want to see anymore, either. And more than anything, he didn’t want to have to  _ decide  _ anymore. 

But that was okay. Daddy was there. Daddy knew what to do, always did. Keiji trusted his Daddy more than anyone else. And his Daddy had not once proved himself to be unworthy of that trust. So if his Daddy said it was okay, then Keiji believed him.

Closing his eyes, Keiji let go of the papers and relaxed into Hajime’s touch, leaning back until only the chair’s backrest kept him from fully resting against Hajime, his body open for each and every of Hajime’s ministrations. 

“Daddy, please.”

Hajime pressed his lips against Keiji’s temple. “I’ve got you, baby boy.” 

Peppering his face with kisses, Hajime took his sweet time as he moved his hands across the flat of Keiji’s stomach, mapping out the hills and valleys of his torso with care that reminded of the first time he did this. 

Yet, there was an expertise in his touch that could only be acquired through familiarity and repeated practise. Hajime caressed the smooth skin of Keiji’s abs, his nails scratching faintly over defined crevices, gingerly brushed along his ticklish sides just to see him squirm and grazed his pectorals with calloused palms. 

Keiji exhaled a shuddering breath and curved his body, drawn to Hajime’s touch like a magnet to its opposing pole. He keened when Hajime twisted his mamilla, their special word on his lips and praise like the sweetest candy breathed into his ear.

“Please. Daddy, please,” Keiji begged and Hajime kissed the corner of his mouth, shushing him softly.

“It’s okay, baby, you can tell me. Tell Daddy what you want.”

“Touch me Daddy,” Keiji replied eagerly. 

Hajime pressed his smiling lips against Keiji’s cheek.

“Touch? But I’m already doing that.”

“No, different. I want more. Touch me more, please,” Keiji whined, impatience adding a high pitch to his voice. Hajime chuckled lightly, adding another kiss to his flushed, puffed up cheek.

“That’s okay, baby, but Daddy won’t know where you want me to touch you when you don’t tell me.”

“I- I want, lower. Touch me lower, Daddy!”

“Lower? You mean, here?” Hajime slid a hand down Keiji’s body, feeling him tremble and twitch underneath him. He stopped right above his beltline, as he had done so before. 

Keiji pushed his hips upwards, whining unhappily when that action didn’t earn him the desired result. “What is it, baby? Didn’t you want my hand lower? Why are you unhappy now?” 

Keiji didn’t like the lilt in his voice. His Daddy always knew what he wanted, so now couldn’t possibly an exception. Yet, he didn’t do it. His Daddy was teasing him. Keiji didn’t want to be teased, though. 

Huffing, Keiji grabbed Hajime’s arms and tugged on them, trying to urge them lower, but Hajime refused him. 

“What is it, baby?”

Keiji didn’t want to say it. Saying it was embarrassing. Even if it was his Daddy.

But there was also that pressure in his lower region he couldn’t ignore any longer.

He bit his lip as want and pride fought within him. Although the winner had been decided from the get-go.

“F-further Daddy. I want it further down.”

“Further? Like this?”

Following Keiji’s urging, Hajime dropped a hand to Keiji’s crotch, his fingers brushing gently across the bulge, stroking along his length. Keiji shuddered, his hips reflexively bucking upwards, but Hajime’s other hand was still splayed over his stomach and held him down.

“No, not like that. In-inside…” Heat filled his cheeks. Keiji had to press his eyes shut, hyper-aware of the compelling gaze on him. He swallowed thickly, willing himself to continue. “I-in my pants. Touch me directly.” This was so embarrassing. He felt so laid bare and vulnerable. As if his chest was ripped open, by his own doing, to expose his every tiny fault and shameful desire. It was hard, almost unbearable, to stand. His heart clenched, painfully. As if an invisible person had reached into his opened chest to squeeze his heart between their hands.

“It’s okay, baby boy. I got you.” Soft lips brushed against his closed lids, rough thumbs drawing circles on his skin, and suddenly Keiji was reminded of lazy kisses in the morning, self-cooked meals, sleepy cuddles after long working days, rough hands washing his back in the cramped space of their shower, tender hands scratching his scalp as he rested his head on a comfortingly familiar thigh, and lips pressing loving kisses to his hair. The same lips that were now mouthing along his cheek bones. “Daddy got you.” 

That’s right. This was his Daddy. There was no need for him to feel embarrassed or ashamed. With his Daddy next to him, it was okay for him to lay his insides bare and be vulnerable. He was safe.

Reaching behind him to entangle his fingers in his Daddy’s hair, Keiji turned his head and linked their lips in a sweet embrace. Hesitantly, Keiji opened his eyes and stared into those green jewels that observed him, attentively. An unwavering gaze that didn’t leave Keiji’s once. As if waiting for a cue Keiji alone could give him. 

And Keiji was willed to give it to him.

“I want to feel your hand wrapped around me, Daddy. I want you to make me feel good.”

Hajime smiled at him. It was one of those smiles that made his eyes shine brighter, dark green leaves in a broadleaf forest as the summer sun reflects from their shiny surface, while the dimples in his cheeks carved beautifully. Like brilliantly sculptured art. Keiji’s pulse quickened.

“Of course, baby. You mean, like  _ this _ ?” 

Moving as he spoke, Hajime slipped his hand into Keiji’s pants and pressed his palm against Keiji’s uncovered heat. “Ah-! Daddy,  _ yes _ ! Like  _ that _ !” Keiji was melting under the touch, his arms growing slack and sinking lower as all blood seemed to gather in his lower half, leaving him hot and trembling. Taunted by the touch, it didn't take long before Keiji bucked his hips, pressing into the touch. Hajime let him. 

Instead of holding Keiji still like he'd done before, Hajime’s now unoccupied fingers followed the curves and edges of Keiji’s abdominal, the pads of his palm brushing over the smooth skin, his fingertips dancing lightly over the twitching muscles. He scraped his nails across the slope of Keiji’s chest, almost mindlessly as he listened to the breathless gasps that lingered in the air, reverberating between Keiji’s mouth and Hajime’s ear, while he stroked him languidly with a firmness Keiji couldn’t get enough of. Hajime massaged a nip with his thumb and pointer, generous in the extent of his ministrations as he stroked the skin leading up to the rosy bead with gyrating, rubbing motions, until he could pinch it easily. He twisted the snub as he liked, finding enjoyment in watching Keiji fidget under him and the way he clawed at his arms. Timing the flicks of his wrists, Hajime twisted the hotly burning bean right as he brushed his thumb over the head barely covered by Keiji’s sweats. A moan found its way into the ballad of gasps, Hajime's hands manhandling Keiji into jelly. Boneless, mindless, his body quivering upon the slightest touch. And then those hands were suddenly gone.

“You didn’t answer me, baby,” Hajime whispered, his hands grasping the armrests of Keiji’s desk chair. 

Left with only the echo of the delicious press of rough fingers against his sensitive skin, Keiji whined, not caring how  _ needy _ that made him seem. He dug his nails into Hajime’s arm, an arm reaching back behind him to tug on thick tufts of spiky hair again, and tilted his head to stare into Hajime’s eyes unabashedly with furrowed brows that spoke legends about his dislike regarding Hajime's latest action. His previous shyness a long forgotten mystery. “Again, Daddy! Please,  _ please  _ do that again!”

Hajime pressed his lips against Keiji’s throat, muffling his chuckles by sucking the flushed skin into his mouth, leaving behind darkened splodges. 

“You sure, baby? We might get your important papers dirty if I do.” 

Keiji narrowed his eyes, gazing stubbornly at the dark brown hair tickling his cheek. “I don’t care! Please, Daddy, do it again.  _ Touch me _ !”

“If that’s what you want.” 

“ _ Yes! _ ”

With another wave of low chuckles pressed against Keiji’s collarbone, Hajime dipped his hands back under Keiji’s clothes. One hand disappeared under Keiji's worn setter-dog shirt to play with his previously ignored nip, the other under his sweat pants, slipping into the baggy black briefs that were actually Hajime's to close his fist around Keiji's length, touching him exactly like Keiji had begged him to do. 

Keiji threw his head back and moaned when Hajime’s fist was setting a slow but relentless pace. He kept his grip tight around Keiji’s base, his little finger dipping lower to pet the pubic hair covering his testicles, but his grip loosened as he stroke his length, before brushing his thumb across the slit with irregular timing. Sometimes his fingers brushed it with a touch as light as the faintest wisp of wind. Sometimes he didn't touch the tip at all, his fingers caressing only the edge of his head. Sometimes he didn't loosen his grip, but simply continued to stroke him with his calloused palm tightening around the head. And sometimes it wasn't either of those, but something completely different.

Keiji loved it. The roughness of Hajime’s palm, the unpredictable movements of his fingers, the firmness of his grip that became teasingly light as he was stroking him, topped by the sudden pressure against his most sensitive spots. It sent his mind reeling in the best of ways, heat spreading from where Hajime touched him throughout his whole body. “ _ Aah _ ,  _ yes _ , Daddy, just like  _ that _ !”

“Do you like this, baby boy?” 

“Yes, _yes_ , Daddy! I like it _a_ _lot_!”

“Good boy,” Hajime cooed and pressed his lips to Keiji's temple. 

Stirred in his heat daze by the loving act, Keiji turned his head, his ocean blue searching for Hajime’s forest green. “Daddy?”

Hajime hummed, indicating he had heard him. “Hm? What is it?” He looked deeply into those hooded deep blue eyes, absolutely fascinated by the silver flecks swimming in the blur. Long black lashes descended upon the enchanted blue, casting shadows over high cheekbones, before framing them again like the daintiest velvet. Keiji was beautiful. Hajime couldn't help but stare at him, greedily drinking in his ethereal beauty. When Keiji was the finest of refined wines, then Hajime was the drunkard who drove himself into an existential crisis as he spent all his fortune to taste just one more sip, barely enough to wet his tongue, of this exquisite drink.

“K-kiss me?”

Hajime didn't respond. Not vocally at least. But he stopped twisting Keiji’s nipple and instead grabbed his chin to turn his face until he could slide their mouths together, easily. Soft and innocent, just a press of lips that caught Keiji's sigh between them. Not that they stayed like that for long. 

Burying his fingers in the soft locks of Keiji's hair, cupping his flushed cheek with his tanned palm, Hajime sucked Keiji's lower lip into his mouth; applying pressure until it felt plush and hot as he licked over it. A whimper shook Keiji's frame and he angled his head, opening his mouth as he tugged at Hajime's hair, urging him closer as he invited Hajime's tongue to meet his own. Waiting just as long as it took to bite down on Keiji's lip, Hajime pushed his tongue into Keiji's wet cavity, their tongues swirling around each other like dancers, accompanied only by a sharp gasp and the following prolonged exhale. Hajime licked over Keiji's palate, brushing it lightly with the tip of his tongue, before sucking on the pearl white front teeth while Keiji's teeth scraped his lower lip. He licked inside again, and again, and again. His tongue pressed flat against Keiji's roof, the tip of his tongue following the even line of white teeth, quick flat and languid fine licks across Keiji's inner walls and tongue. He even sucked and bit on Keiji's tongue when Keiji, driven by a sudden urge of returning the favours, had licked into Hajime's mouth, reaching a sensitive spot. Hajime worked Keiji's mouth with tongue, lips and teeth, and the initial gasp soon morphed into a choir concert of swallowed moans and sinfully lewd squelching sounds. 

When Keiji’s nails scratched over Hajime's scalp, desperately searching for something to hold onto, Hajime reflexively tightened the grip of his fist as he kept stroking Keiji in his pants. Keiji keened. Forced to break their kiss to breath, Keiji stared at the white-painted ceiling as the older male sucked another mark into the skin above his Adam's apple. He expected Hajime to slow down again after a while, dragging things out, but instead Hajime kept his grip tight as he abandoned variation for a higher pace.

Keiji pressed his eyes shut, completely overwhelmed, his heart racing as if there was a prize to win for highest measured pulse rate. Stars danced behind his closed lids, his mind broken long ago, clueless about what to do with his hands anymore. His palms were sweaty and hurt from how strongly Keiji was holding onto Hajime, but when he tried to loosen his grip, it felt too similar to falling, the sensations and the heat Hajime gifted him too heavy for him. 

“Keiji, baby boy, you're too stiff. Relax,” Hajime whispered with a hoarse voice that sent sparks towards Keiji's loins, a broken whimper ripped from his throat.

“I- I can't, Daddy. It's, I'm falli- _ nhh _ I- I ca- _ ahh _ !” A loud, broken moan fell from his lips as Hajime momentarily paused in his task of stroking him to massage his testicles. But before he knew it, Hajime had flicked his wrist in an especially delicious way and was jerking him again with fiery endeavor. “ _ Daddy! _ ” 

Keiji's need spiked sharply, his skin positively crawling. Squeezing both of Hajime’s upper arms, he used them as leverage to rock his hips into Hajime's fist, slightly out of rhythm with Hajime’s established motions. He didn't care. The one thing he longed for more than for anything else was right in front of him, only millimetres away. But as hard as he tried, as desperate as he was, he couldn't reach it.

“Hey hey, calm down, baby. No need to haste.” Hajime soothingly threaded his fingers through Keiji’s curls, but his boyfriend was having none of that.

“But Daddy, I- I wan-  _ ahh ‘ _ ster, faster Daddy,  _ please _ ,” Keiji begged, blinking up at Hajime with dilated pupils under a hazy film, the corners of his eyes reddened, yet not as red as his cheeks. His gaze was burning with need, incinerating the flame of desire in Hajime as well, his pants uncomfortably tight. 

But he fought it. Because this was not about him. This was about Keiji. 

Taking a deep breath, Hajime pressed his mouth back against Keiji's and, once their lips were firmly locked, removed his hand from Keiji's hair to caress the expanses of skin hidden by his shirt.

“Relax, baby. I know, Daddy knows what you want,” Hajime murmured in-between a flutter of kisses he bestowed upon Keiji's lips. 

And then he did just that.

Lured by Hajimes coaxing, Keiji relaxed, his iron grip on Hajime melting. The idea of falling crystallized clearly in his mind once again, but this time he didn't fight it. Welcoming it with open arms, Keiji allowed himself to fall, a pit of pure ecstasy awaiting him. A moment later he barely heard himself moan loudly through the rush of blood in his ears and the most satisfying warmth settled in his heavy limbs as he covered Hajime's hand in a sticky white.

Keiji was still breathing heavily, the room merely a blur through the daze covering his eyes, when Hajime pulled his hand out of Keiji's pants and licked it clean. “Now that that is taken care of, how about dinner? I'm afraid the side dishes are cold by now, but at least the rice should be still warm. I left it in the rice cooker since I wasn't sure whether we would eat together or not. But since you're taking a break anyway; might as well do the best out of it.” 

Keiji groaned. Of course Hajime would use this opportunity to make him take an actual break and eat. He would have rolled his eyes too, but since focusing on the room, while following Hajime's words as well, was still kind of difficult, he avoided doing that to prevent getting dizzy. He glanced at the mess of documents and binders before him. The most professional thing to do would be going back to work now. He knew that far too well. The problem was, though, that, since he was forced out of his previous eager focus, he didn't feel like entering it again right away. Mentally cursing Hajime, he sighed in defeat. “Fine. You win. I'll take a break. Just give me a minute to calm down.”

“No need. I'll just carry you.” Said and done, Hajime scooped Keiji in his arms and stood up, leaving the younger man to yelp in surprise and automatically reach for Hajime's shoulders to hold onto as Hajime was already half across the room.

“Wha- oh my god, Hajime, put me down! I can walk fine on my own. Hajime!”

Hajime laughed at Keiji's 180° change of personality, not even thinking about letting go. “It's okay Keiji, I know what to do. Let me take care of you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it :3
> 
> What happened afterwards:  
> \- Keiji took a "break" that ended up encompassing a whole nights worth of sleep, but he finished the work around the afternoon so he and Hajime still had Christmas Eve together  
> \- back at the company it turns out he was handed the wrong data. The copy he got was the uncorrected version. Akaashi looked through the new version but couldn't find any of the previous mistakes. His co-worker was very sorry about the trouble he caused Keiji. His phone didn't work bc he was overseas during the holidays, but as he noticed his mistake he bought a very expensive gift for Keiji. Keiji is still sore about the topic but accepted the gift (Hajime had a good laugh when he heard the story)  
> \- the presentations went without a hitch and Keiji earned a very nice bonus.


End file.
